Incredible
by Juliabohemian
Summary: Dialogue only House Cuddy conversation. Cuddy visits House in prison. Takes place after season 7.


_I wrote this immediately after watching the season 7 finale in May. I polished it up and am posting. Because someone told me that someone might read it. Go figure. Cuddy visits House in prison to get closure. Or annoy him. One of those. House Cuddy dialogue only._

_ALSO: Upon the advice of a friend, I'm going to start posting some of the notes I've been sitting on for the last year, in relationship to other works in progress. They total about 40,000 words. I wasn't going to post them initially because they don't make a complete cohesive story and I'm kind of OCD like that. But I figure there's no harm in it and someone might read them._

* * *

><p><strong>Incredible<strong>

"What the hell do _you_ want?"

"How are you?"

"How do I look?"

"Like you haven't shaved in over a week."

"I looked like that before I was arrested."

"True."

"..."

"Are they treating you okay?"

"I haven't been gang raped yet, if that's what you mean. But there's always tomorrow."

"..."

"I'm fine. You?"

"Fine."

"Great...is that all?"

"No."

"I can't imagine what you could possibly want."

"I just wanted to see you."

"Well here I am."

"And...I wanted to know how you feel."

"This again?"

"..."

"You don't want to know how I feel. You never did. _You_ felt guilty. So you wanted me to tell you everything was fine. The only problem with that is, it wasn't."

"I don't feel guilty for breaking up you House."

"Then you're an even more heartless bitch than I thought."

"I'm not going to sit here if you're just going to insult me."

"First of all, I never asked you to come here and second of all, I haven't even_ begun_ to insult you."

"What exactly are you so angry about? I'm the one whose property was destroyed."

"What difference does it make?"

"It might help you to talk about it."

"Oh I think we're _way_ past that now, don't you?"

"…"

"I don't have anything more to say to you."

"House…sit down."

"No. In case no one filled you in on my rights, I don't have to talk to you if I don't want to. If you have anymore messages for me, you can send them through my attorney."

"You were right."

"Oh yeah? About what?"

"I _do _feel guilty."

"Good to know."

"The thing is, I'm not even sure why."

"And you thought I'd be willing to waste my time, helping you figure it out? Newsflash sweetheart, I don't care how you feel. Not anymore. Not now. So go talk to your sister, or Wilson, or your mom or your new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You know what? I actually don't care."

"House, you drove a car through my dining room."

"Yeah, I did. And I'm currently safely in custody, not bothering you anymore, facing a minimum of one year in prison because of it. You will be awarded damages galore. Your precious home will be repaired. Order will be restored to your life and _you _can live happily ever after. So kindly return the favor and leave me the hell alone."

"This wasn't what I wanted."

"Do you think it's what_ I_ wanted?"

"…"

"Do you think I woke up that morning and thought hey…_this would be a good day to vandalize my ex-girlfriend's house and become incarcerated, ultimately giving up my personal freedom and possibly ending my medical career_?"

"I never thought it was premeditated."

"Oh, well I'm glad we're in agreement about something."

"But that doesn't make it okay either."

"I never said it was _okay_."

"So you're admitting that it was wrong."

"That would be why I plead guilty."

"I don't understand."

"Exactly what is it that you don't understand, me realizing something I did was impulsive and stupid or me actually taking legal responsibility for it?"

"…"

"It was inevitable."

"What was?"

"Me snapping at some point. It was inevitable. In a way, I'm actually kind of relieved."

"Why?"

"Because it could have been a lot worse. I actually thought for a while there that I could just distract myself, just move on and avoid it altogether. Of course in hindsight, I see how ridiculous that was. But it happened. I snapped."

"So now what?"

"Now it's over. Now...I have nowhere to go but up."

"I can't let you come back to the hospital...ever."

"Yeah I kind of figured that out already."

"What are you going to do?"

"That's not really your problem anymore."

"That doesn't mean I don't care."

"Except that you don't."

"Excuse me?"

"If you're going to reject and abandon me, then you have to live with whatever guilt you might reap as a result of that choice. It's a bit presumptuous of you to expect me to politely exit your life _and_ ease your conscience on the way out."

"I didn't...I had the right to break up with you, House."

"Of course you did. And I have the right to send my food back to the chef, even if it's _exactly _what I ordered, and demand that he send me something else instead. But it would still make me an asshole."

"Now you're calling me an asshole?"

"True or false; you knew I was an addict when you chose to date me."

"I'm not doing this with you."

"True or false, Cuddy?"

"True."

"Yeah...and then you abandoned me at the first sign of a relapse, all the while taking for granted the fact that I'd succeeded in remaining sober for almost three years."

"..."

"I can't say I recall you praising my efforts during that period of time either."

"If I tried to praise you for something, you'd accuse me of being patronizing."

"Maybe that's because, in the rare event that you have praised me for something, you _were_ being patronizing."

"Well I wasn't trying to be."

"I see. So you shouldn't be held accountable for your personality flaws, because you're not conscious of them. Gee, if only such benevolence applied to me."

"I find it hard to believe that you aren't conscious of at least _some_ of your personality flaws."

"I'm probably conscious of _all_ of them."

"Then your argument is moot."

"It's not my intention to be an addict, Cuddy. Do you think when I was a kid and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I answered _unable_ _to function without booze and pills_?"

"…"

"I was under a lot of stress."

"And I wasn't? For God's sake, I thought I was dying..."

"Except that you weren't."

"But I didn't know that. _You_ didn't know that."

"Do you have a drug problem?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I don't experience stress."

"But you process it differently than I do. You process it more effectively than I do. And you do _not_ have a history of drug abuse. I on the other hand, was under a lot of stress and I relapsed. And had you not reacted the way you had, that may have even been the end of it. You in essence turned what would probably have been an acute stuation into something...chronic."

"So you're saying it's my fault that you're back on the Vicodin."

"I'm not back on anything _now_."

"I meant prior to destroying my dining room."

"Before that I was doing okay. Not great, but okay. I think you completely overreacted and made things much worse than they would have otherwise been."

"So I should have just accepted that you chose to run off and get high, instead of being there for me, physically _or_ emotionally, during a very frightening and stressful time of my life."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what the hell_ are_ you saying?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I told you that at the time. And I'm sorry that I chose to use Vicodin to cope with stress. I just don't understand why you had to end our relationship over it."

"Because I realized at that moment, that it would never have worked."

"I see. Well at least you enjoyed it for a while there. No harm done. It was fun while it lasted, right?"

"House…"

"No, seriously. Did you give any thought to how I might feel when you embarked on this ridiculous experiment? Did you give any thought to what might happen to me when you finally acknowledged what you probably already knew all along?"

"You knew what our chances were, just as well as I did."

"So you're saying I don't have the right to be disappointed?"

"You're admitting that you're disappointed?"

"I would have thought that was obvious."

"..."

"I wish you'd never walked in that night."

"Why?"

"Because it was a waste of time...yours and mine."

"..."

"I was all set to end it.

"..."

"Oh, don't act surprised."

"I...am surprised."

"I would have thought the broken mirror would have clued you in."

"..."

"It would have been perfect timing. Things were...I don't know. But you should have just left well enough alone."

"You're saying you'd rather be dead than single?"

"I'm saying I'd rather be dead than live under the delusion that I don't deserve to be alone."

"It's not a delusion."

"If that were true, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"There are other people out there besides me, House."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I don't want to argue with you."

"But you don't agree."

"Nope."

"..."

"The morning after, you told me that I was the _most incredible man_ you've ever known. Do you remember saying that?"

"Yes."

"You also told me that no matter what I would _always_ be the most incredible man you've ever known."

"You...are."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Stacy told me that too...before she left, the second time."

"She did?"

"Well not in those words, of course. It was something sappier, something more along the lines of _you were the one_. But the general message was the same."

"What's your point?"

"That you're both full of crap."

"I can't speak for Stacy. But I meant what I said, House."

"No, you didn't."

"You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I guess that's just the explanation that I'd prefer."

"Why?"

"Because the alternative is that there is something so wrong with me that being the most _incredible_ man in two women's lives simply isn't enough to make them want to tolerate my presence."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Not sorry enough."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to take some responsibility for the way things turned out."

"It's not my fault you drove your car through my dining room."

"Not directly, no. But you certainly contributed to the events that led up to that decision."

"I tried to talk to you, House. You avoided me. I tried repeatedly to give you the opportunity to vent your frustrations."

"You hounded me into going through an exercise designed to relieve _your_ stress, not mine."

"It wasn't..."

"I want you to admit that the reason our relationship failed it because _you_ chose to end it. I want you to admit that went into it, knowing it was probably going to be temporary and that you had no intention of committing to me for any length of time. I want you to admit that it was nothing more than a _test_ drive..."

"No."

"Why can't you just admit it?"

"Because that's_ not_ what happened."

"Then just you're wasting more of my time."

"What difference does it make what I say if you're not going to believe me?"

"Welcome to my world."

"..."

"You said I was right, that you felt guilty, but that you weren't really sure why."

"Yes."

"I think my theory would cover that. Don't you?"

"What are you getting from this?"

"Oodles of satisfaction. I can't wait to go back to my cell and journal all about it."

"I'm serious. Does this do something for you, proving to yourself over and over again that people are flawed and untrustworthy?"

"So you're admitting that you're flawed?"

"Everyone's flawed, House. _Everyone_ makes mistakes."

"So I should be more understanding of your mistakes because, by your rationale, all human beings are flawed and capable of error. Does that same logic apply to you as well or are my mistakes somehow exempt from this argument?"

"I don't know."

"You can't have it both ways, Cuddy. Either we're both entitled to some form of clemency or neither of us are."

"Right."

"If my actions have consequences, then so do yours."

"You're saying that I deserved to have you drive your car through my dining room?"

"I'm saying that you shouldn't pretend to be surprised that I did it."

"I was surprised, House."

"Then you're an idiot."

"If you say so."

"What are _you_ getting from this?"

"What?"

"Does this do something for you...reopening my wounds over and over again? Do you get some kind of satisfaction from reminding me that I'm a complete and utter failure of a human being?"

"I don't...that's not why I came."

"No, you came because _you_ felt guilty. You were hoping I would let you off the hook, tell you it wasn't your fault that I went nutty bananas. Except that it kind of was."

"I'm not to blame for who you are, House."

"No, but you are to blame for giving me the impression that who I am apparently isn't worth your time or energy."

"I'm here aren't I?"

"I hope you're not serious."

"I am."

"..."

"I guess...it's all I have to offer at this point."

"Then I'll take door number two."

"There are no more doors, House."

"Yeah."

"..."

"You want to know how I feel?"

"Yes."

"You broke my heart."

"..."

"Is that what you want to hear?"

"..."

"I was devastated. It was...depressing. It was probably one of the two most painful rejections of my adult life."

"I won't ask what the other one was."

"You chased me around enough and I have nowhere left to hide and...I have nothing left to lose by telling you that."

"..."

"Say something."

"I did."

"Say something _else_."

"I'm...sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"It's not your fault."

"..."

"I mean, some of it is. But it's...not your fault I went nutty bananas."

"I know."

"I'm sorry about your dining room."

"Thank you."

"..."

"Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Well...I _am_ the most incredible man you've ever known."

"And you always will be."

"Right."

"Goodbye, House."

"Goodbye Cuddy."


End file.
